


Star Trek Drabbles

by Valmasy



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Holodecks/Holosuites, Joker and Harley Quinn AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8575918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valmasy/pseuds/Valmasy
Summary: A collection of Star Trek drabbles.1. ḶḀṳḠḧḭṆḠ - Jim/Bones (McKirk) - Joker/Harley Quinn AU (PG)2. Message Deleted - Jim/Spock (Spirk) (PG13)





	1. ḶḀṳḠḧḭṆḠ

Jim is found on Tarsus at 16, gaunt and starved, broken and bloody. The planet is burning, and he’s ḶḀṳḠḧḭṆḠ, ƃuıɥƃuɐן, **laughing**. Officers are forced to sedate him to get him out of the remains of Kodos’ mansion. The last sight Jim takes with him is the smiling gash slicing open Sam’s neck. He goes down into the darkness with screaming that sounds like more laughter.

Two years later, Jim sits at a silver table. It’s so polished and clean that if Jim leaned forward, he thinks he could see his reflection. If he leans forward. If he could. His back is kept straight against the chair back. He can feel the metal rod connecting the steel plate at the top of his spine to the top of the chair. The chain rattles as his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

The doctor is coming.

Jim’s normal restlessness is gone. The shivers in his limbs to move to and fight and dance have shaken out and stilled, letting his ankles rest where they’re bolted to the chair legs, which are bolted to the floor. His toes are cold against the concrete.

The doctor is coming.

His head is lolling forward as much as it can, and even his shoulders go still, relax. Out beyond Jim’s room, a door creaks open, steel on steel, grating in the silence of the asylum. It only lasts a moment before the door closes and two sets of footsteps come down the hall. Click. Clack. Clip. Clop. His door opens, and the men shadowed in the doorway pause, muttering to each other.

“Hick. Hock. Tick. Tock. Time’s a wastin’, Doc,” Jim muses, tone throaty and edged. There’s always a curl in the smooth bass of his voice, a hint of the madness that lurks within. “I’ve got a tight schedule to keep here; I wouldn’t want my audience to grow bored without me.”

Jim is still staring at the fold of his arms, wrapped around his chest, tight and constricted with straps and harmless ties that would frankly be insulting to Jim’s intelligence if he actually wanted to escape.

As it so happens, he’s exactly where he wants to be at the moment.

A shiver of restless anticipation prickles at Jim’s skin. A laugh bubbles up in his throat, and he almost stops it. Almost. There’s a sigh as the doctor sits in the chair across from Jim. A recorder is set in the far corner of the table, furthest from Jim. Not that Jim is moving anytime soon.

“James,” the doctor says in greeting, and Jim’s head comes up. It bypasses facing the doctor to drop back to face the ceiling.

“No, no, no, Doc,” Jim croons. “You’re mistaken. There’s no James here. He’s gone. Poof.” His fingers twitch in the jacket with a gesture. “Disappeared in the ashes, remember?”  
Silence, then: “Jim.” The name is little more than a breath, and most would hear it as disgruntled, but Jim knows better. He knows better. He rolls his head to the side, left cheek touching his shoulder, and peers at the doctor through his lashes.

Leonard hasn’t quite worked up the nerve to look at him yet, and that’s just not going to cut it.

“That’s better,” Jim says and puts a thick promise in the sentence. Leonard’s gaze snaps to his, and Jim’s smirk twists up the side of his face more.

Leonard stares at him for a long moment. The silence reins, but it’s telling. It’s so telling. Jim brings his head up proper and, as always, Leonard’s eyes trace the thick, corded scar pulling the left side of Jim’s face into a permanent smirk. There’s no ticking, no near-silent hum of the recorder. Dangling from Leonard’s hand is a set of keys. They flash in the shitty lighting of the cell.

Jim grin and his laughter rings out with the maelstrom of gunfire. 

Leonard doesn’t get the chance to free Jim. As Leonard rises from his seat, the door bursts open to a few of Jim’s friends. All Jim can see of the first figure is a long black ponytail swinging free from a geisha’s mask. A gloved hand snatches at the keys from Leonard’s grip as three other figures drag the protesting doctor from the room.

Jim is full of so much energy that he’s yanking at his bindings even as he’s freed. “Ny. Ny, get ‘em off,” he chants. The locks fall to the floor, and he struggles out of the jacket with only one to witness. “I like the mask. I like it. It’s cute. Not you, though. You’d never be so…so subservient.”

Uhura pushes the geisha mask up into her hair to rest as she scowls at Jim. “They weren’t my idea, Captain.”

“It was only logical to conceal our features from the monitors before they were disabled.” Spock is now standing in the doorway. There’s a mask on his head too, but Jim can’t tell what it is from this angle. He’s rolling his shoulders and still grinning.

“Logical, logical. Lo…gic. Where is he?” Jim asks, slinking up against Spock. He grabs Spock’s chin, fingers smoothing over his jaw. Spock merely arches a stoic brow back at Jim. Uhura makes a short noise, sucking at her teeth. “Where is he? What did you do with him? I want-I need to see him. I need.”

“We put him with the guards,” Spock responds.

“Oh no.” Jim curls away. “No, no, no. That won’t do at all. He’s my doctor. He deserves the best. After all.” Jim dissolves into laughter, bending over slightly as he’s overcome with it. “After all, an eye for an eye!”

_Would you die for me?_

“Why are you doing this?” Leonard growls, though he’s worried. He doesn’t understand. He’d done as Jim asked. He’d orchestrated the rescue. He’s freed him.

“No, Doc,” Jim says, smirking. Always smirking. He leans in the light from the overhead lamp attached to the infirmary bed. His features are obscured, shadowed on one side. He looks all the more menacing, and Leonard sweats, squirms on the table. “I freed you.”

“What are you gonna to do to me?” Leonard is caught by the fierce gleam of blue in the darkness, sucked into Jim’s orbit as he always is. He’s inexorably lost to this kid. “Are you gonna kill me, Jim?”

“No, I’m not gonna kill you. I’m just gonna hurt you really, really bad,” Jim promises, so firm, so sincere. He brushes the back of his knuckles against Leonard’s cheek. Then, he’s laughing, and Leonard is screaming.

Leonard coughs himself into consciousness. He jerks and cries out in pain as he rolls off the table and onto the floor. Hes coughing again, but the smoke is thinner this low.  
He blinks the blood out of his eyes and looks around. The room is on fire, so is much of the asylum by the looks of the glow beyond the windows.

Debris and destruction surround him, but Leonard knows he has to move. He also knows he has at least two broken legs, a shatter ulna, and a dislocated shoulder.  
He has to move. He can’t stay here. He has to get out to… He has to get out… He has to… He laughs against the floor, temple resting in a puddle of his own blood.

He has to get out.

He drags himself out of the infirmary over shattered glass and burning metal. He drags himself out by splintered fingernails and melting skin. “I’m a doctor. I’m a doctor.” No, he’s nothing. He’s broken and empty. He’s a clean slate. He’s a shell, waiting to be filled.

He absently wonders how thick the red path of blood is that he leaves behind. He wonders, but the exit is there, just beyond the door, and he’s laughing. Desperate and fearful, he laughs because it’s all he can do, because it’s madness and wonder and life filling him, goading him, **driving** him to survive.

_No, no, no. That’s too easy._

At the base of the asylum steps, Jim is waiting, waiting, waiting. Leonard can see him through the flames as he finally, finally drags himself through. Bloody and charred and laughing through the pain.

_Would you… Would you **live** for me?_

Leonard collapses at the top of the stairs. He thinks his eyes shut, but maybe he’s gone blind.

“Alright, let’s wrap this party up!” Jim orders loudly over the wreckage. He brushes his fingers through Leonard’s filthy hair. “C'mon, Bonesy. Let’s get you home.”

Leonard murmurs, “Thanks, Mr. J,” and let’s Jim take care of him, a grin on his lips.

~~


	2. Message Deleted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an accident and then recuperation in the woods. 
> 
> Spoiler tag in the end notes.

Spock never said ‘I love you’. 

Jim had made it perfectly clear at the beginning; it wasn’t what he wanted from him. He didn’t want the words. They didn’t mean anything to him.

Instead, Jim let him whisper _t’hy’la_ against his skin, stroke the letters across his shoulders, his brow, press the meaning of the very word into their kisses. In return, he clutched at Spock’s arms and tangled his fingers into Spock’s hair, drinking it all in with pleased sighs and murmurs. 

_Dammit, Jim. I know you’re there! You can’t just run off with that damn… That damn robot. That’s not proper medical treatme-_ **Message deleted.**

It was an arrangement that worked. It was comforting in the aftermath. A retreat to a veritable cabin in the woods where the press couldn’t get easily, and the routine was a breath of fresh air. He fingered the disc in his jacket pocket and breathed in deeply after dropping the bags on the porch. The front door of the cabin welcomed him with a sign:

_Holo-Cabin 14 - Where Imaginations Come to Life!_

Below that, fine print detailed the parameter of the cabin's technology. He closed his eyes and listened to the peaceful ambiance of the wildlife. Spock’s hand pressed against his lower back and, for a moment, Jim could just be.

_I swear to God that you better be taking your medic-_ **Message deleted.**

“You’re not applying the ice properly,” Spock said with a slight quirk of his mouth. 

“I’m applying it just fine,” Jim grunted, resting back on the couch and holding the towel-covered ice to his hip. “Twenty minutes on, and I’ll be right as rain.”

“I do not think Doctor McCoy would consider that statement factual, Jim.”

Jim smiled. “No. No, he wouldn’t. But he isn’t here, so-”

“I have never seen the point of sticking one’s tongue out.” Jim could practically hear Spock shaking his head. He shifted on the couch and bit back a sigh. He really did ache. He’d take the painkillers later.

Time passed slowly, and Jim healed just as slowly. The bruises bloomed across the wide expanse of his side, from chest to hip and from outer- to inner-thigh. His kidney still felt out of place, but Spock assured him he was just exaggerating as the scans showed that everything was in order. 

_Jim, it’s Uhura. W-_ **Message deleted.**

Jim rested on his stomach, stretched out along the blanket that he’d spread over the grass. The sun warmed him, loosening the stiff muscles of his back as he relaxed. A breeze stirred the edges of the blanket, displaced by Spock settling beside him. He shifted his head on the folded up bundle of his jacket.

“You should come in soon,” he said, and stroked his fingers through Jim’s hair. “You’ll be hungry, and you didn’t take your medicine this morning.”

“Yes, mother,” Jim murmured, words slurring a little. He was too content to move. To the side, the sun glinted off of amber liquid in dancing shards of light. 

“If you wanted a mother figure, then you’ve certainly chosen poorly,” Spock replied. Jim cracked an eye open, peering up at Spock from the corner of his gaze. Spock’s expression was as placid as usual, but Jim fancied he could read the soft tilt of his mouth, the gentle lines around his eyes. Maybe he was just imagining it. 

“Mm, I don’t know.” Jim hummed. His smirk was teasing. “I bet you’d look great in a dress.”

_Please. Please, just let me know where you are. Let me know you’re okay. I mean, I know you’re not okay. The accident was… Jim, please, just call-_ **Message deleted.**

Spock’s chest rose and fell steadily, lifting Jim’s head in rhythm as he swiped through notifications on his padd. He’d have to plug it in soon before the battery died. A chime sounded lowly from its speaker, and a message from Nyota Uhura came across the screen. 

He swiped it off, and Spock took the padd from him to place it on the nightstand. “You can’t avoid them forever, Jim.”

In answer, Jim curled a hand around Spock’s neck and tugged him down into a kiss. 

“-ptain Kirk was still unavailable for comment after the encounter that left two dead and four others critically injured, including himself. Sources close to Kirk say that he’s-”

“Sources,” Jim scoffed, turning the television off and throwing the remote through the window. He stood there in the darkened living room for a long, long time. Then, without a further outburst, he went about cleaning up the shattered glass. He didn’t need the lecture in the morning, so he even made sure to be careful around the jagged edges. 

He left the hole in the window unattended. If it rained, it rained. He honestly couldn’t care. He went to the kitchen and sat at the table with a bottle and a glass he probably wouldn’t use. 

“You didn’t sleep last night,” Spock said gently, touching Jim’s shoulder. “It’s been three nights, Jim. I’m concerned, and your bruise is spreading.”

“Vulcans don’t feel concern,” Jim retorted around the tape in his mouth. He spread a strip of it along the top of the sheet he was taping to the window. “And you’re definitely not a doctor. I’m fine. I’m not tired, is all.”

“Ji-”

“I’m fine,” Jim cut Spock off. “Go… Go do something else. I’m just trying to fix the window.”

There was silence. Not the kind that was a pause or hesitation, but the silence of being alone. Jim closed his eyes, biting down on the dispenser until its casing creaked. The headache throbbed behind his eyes.

 _Goddamn you, Jim! What the fuck are you doing?! You’ve got your...your…boyfriend so worried that he’s messaging me. It’s been a month and you haven’t refilled your prescription, so I know you’re not taking it. Jim, listen to me. Please, if our friendship means anything, you can’t do this to yourself. You need proper care, and you’re not getting it wherever you ran off to._ **Message deleted.**

It’s Nyota. Please take care of yourself. We love you. We miss you. **Message deleted.**

Spock set the padd back on the nightstand and looked over as Jim stretched in front of the mirror, twisting this way and that as he examined the gruesome purple still covering the right side of his body. 

“Come here, _ashayam_ ,” Spock said quietly. Jim’s gaze darkened in the mirror’s reflection, but he walked over dutifully. Spock’s hands were cool against Jim’s skin as he mapped the edges of the injuries. “ _Sanoi hakau_.”

“I can’t heal,” Jim replied, and the weary edge of his tone held all his pain and exhaustion. He sagged in against Spock, swaying between his legs. “I don’t deserve to heal.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Spock said. He kissed Jim’s chest over his heart. “ _T’hy’la_ , it wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispered. “I can’t do this right now.” He pulled away, stalking out of the room to leave the door slamming shut behind him. He grabbed his jacket on the way out of the cabin and took off into the woods. He didn’t have a particular destination in mind, just running away blindly until the crushing guilt lifted enough to actually let him breathe. 

He fell to his knees, clenching his fingers in the dirt and leaves, and vomited up the empty contents of his stomach. His throat burned and his sides screamed at the strain, but he couldn’t stop, and soon he was reduced to a shivering mess of tears as he listed to his side. The disc that had been in his pocket lie in the dirt before his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“You shouldn’t run off by yourself in your condition,” Spock said as he approached. 

A sob caught in Jim’s throat and he curled his arms around his head. “They’re dead because of me. They’re dead because I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t… I couldn’t…”

“You did everything you could, Jim,” Spock said, kneeling down beside Jim. He touched his arm, stroking from wrist to elbow. “Without you, the likelihood of the entire shuttle being destroyed was 94.333%.”

Jim pushed into Spock’s space, climbing up to straddle his lap. Even after retching, he kissed at Spock’s face, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck as Spock’s arms slipped around his waist. 

“I love you,” Jim said fiercely. He kissed him fully. “I love you. I love you so much that it feels like I’ll drown in it.”

“Jim, I-”

“I need you. Right now,” Jim cut him off, shoving his hands down to work Spock’s pants open. He worked his own open as he ignored Spock’s weighted gaze. It was quick. It was dirty. It was painful.

“Tell me you love me.”

It was everything Jim needed. 

And it didn’t mean a goddamn thing. 

After that, Jim could no longer hide from his injuries. The lack of proper care and his unwillingness to take his medication had resulted in worsening conditions, much to Spock’s dismay. Jim stared at the scans, stared at the slightly shaking screen in his hands. His heart beat painfully in his chest. 

_Please don’t go where I can’t follow, kid. I can’t lose you too._ **Message deleted.**

“Why not? Why can’t I go?” Jim wanted to break the padd. “Why do I have to stay?”

There was no answer from Spock, but Jim hadn’t expected one. He knew what the answer was. He knew he couldn’t hide anymore, just as he knew he wouldn’t ever forgive himself. 

_He wouldn’t want this._ **Message deleted.**

“Computer.” 

“Yes, Jim?”

Jim looked over to where Spock sat in the middle of the rug. His dark gaze was on Jim, steady as always. Jim’s voice firmed, belying the tear that slid down his cheek. It dropped, splashing against his comm unit. 

_Jim…It’s time to say goodbye._

“Computer, end program.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major character death - off screen
> 
> The idea is that Spock and another crew member died in a small craft incident that Jim walked away from. Cue the guilt. Jim runs away to a retreat that offers personal holodeck cabins, using it to hide from the truth with Spock's likeness.


End file.
